


Roll Down the Window

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 04:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1373692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Dean saw a blue sky, some white clouds, and a cracked grey road in need of repair, cutting through a dry desert. But Sam could see so much more, more than his brother could ever hope to understand. The world shone in his eyes, all passing by before him."</p><p>Dean's musings on his brother during a long drive in the Impala.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roll Down the Window

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for my tumblr about a month ago, and I'm just now getting around to put it up here. Hope you enjoy~!

By default, Dean Winchester was not an emotional sort of guy. He never had been, no matter how long he scratched at the back of his brain in attempt to rediscover old sensitivities. He could probably count the number of times he had shed tears on one hand. Pardon him if he wasn’t one to get choked up by the sappy chick-flicks his old girlfriends had forced him to endure. Of course there was a sensitive, delicate soul somewhere deep underneath his laid-back, snarky, playboy persona, everyone with a conscience had something to hide, after all. It had just been beaten back years ago, sent scurrying from the light of day by the numerous scars laid by demons, spirits, the beasts that he spends his life hunting. When a hunt began, his walls went up, impenetrable to the petty emotions that might scrabble at his skin, trying to claw their way out and inhibit him from doing his best. Even afterwards, when he would loosen up and collapse on a dingy motel room bed, chilled beer in hand, his impassive, proud fortress stood strong.

Only Sam could break those walls. Sweet, willing, dedicated Sam. The only person that served as an anchor throughout their youth of criss-crossing the country with their father, never staying in the same place long enough to make any real friends. The only arms that were welcome to him, whether they were administering the gentlest of touches, the roughest of punches, or engulfing him in their sweet embrace as he was carried off the edge. The only lips that he knew by heart, sometimes whispering words of love, crying out his name while he climaxed, or brushing against his own. The only body that shared his bed. The only face he woke up to every morning.

A light-hearted laugh next to him stirred Dean from his musings. He looked over to the passenger seat to see the subject of his thoughts rolling down the dusty window of the Impala to gaze at the rapidly passing stretch of dry land. A blast of wind immediately surged through the open window, the breeze striking the faces of the two men. Dean’s lips curled into a small smile as he leaned a hand against the stubble of his chin. “Whatcha think you’re doing?”

Sam looked in his brother’s direction, a wide smile that took his breath away plastered on his face. “Are you kidding, Dean? We just saved a girl’s life and killed the werewolf we’ve been hunting for a week! I’m celebrating!” And with that, he reached over to the radio, twisted the knob, and blasted the music as loud as the dial would allow. With an invigorating guitar solo coursing through the car, Sam leaned forward and pushed his head through the open window.

Sam let out a howl into the barren plain around them. “Dean, you gotta try this!”

Never passing up on an opportunity to poke fun with his little brother, he turned down the radio so he could be heard and flashed his trademark smirk. “Sorry dog-boy, but as much as I’d love to thrust my head out a window and get whiplash from sixty miles per hour wind, I have to focus on the road.”

Despite himself, he cranked down his window and jutted an arm out into the sunlight, a lightly freckled hand tapping along to the music against the car door. Sam wasn’t kidding; the warm breeze licking at his arm felt refreshing, and he found himself humming with the beat.

Dean turned his head at the sound of Sam rustling on the seat next to him, but was stopped by a wet kiss pressed against his cheek. His little brother smiled against his skin and trailed his lips down his stubbly face, and planted another soft kiss on the corner of the older man’s mouth before teasingly sliding back to his seat. “Dog-boy? Is that the best pet name you can think of?”

Chuckling, Dean brought a hand up to swipe at his cheek. “Sorry Sammy, but after sticking your head out the window and slobbering all over me, dog-boy sounds pretty damn accurate. What happened? Did the werewolf take a bite at you when I wasn’t looking?”

Sam punched his brother’s shoulder playfully and rolled his eyes. “Who knew you were such a romantic?” The sarcastic quip rolled affectionately off his tongue and hung in the air before the breeze blew it away.

Dean accepted his brother’s grin with a smug smile of his own. “You doubt me too much.” He smiled as he briefly felt a pair of lips placing another sloppy kiss on his temple, and then the loud hum of music was racing through his ears again. He watched his baby brother, his eyes alight, stick his head back out the window, this time propping his chin against a tanned hand. Not stopping to think about the sentiment of it all, Dean fished around in his jeans pocket until he pulled out his cell and flipped it open. Focusing the camera at Sam, he snapped a few pictures and looked at them.

God, they couldn’t even compare to the real thing. The man next to him looked alive, as if his entire future was laid out for him at the edge of this endless slab of asphalt. His dewy hazel eyes shone through his dark lashes, focused on nothing and everything, reflecting the sky stretched around him. They darted about in awe of the billowing clouds folded over the neverending expanse of blue, taking it all in with each breath of air and beat of his heart.

Dean loved those eyes. Sam’s eyes, which could always see what Dean couldn’t. This, for instance. Dean saw a blue sky, some white clouds, and a cracked grey road in need of repair, cutting through a dry desert. But Sam could see so much more, more than his brother could ever hope to understand. The world shone in his eyes, all passing by before him. He could see his thoughts, his memories, millions upon millions of his dreams, all in the shapes of the lucid clouds. His eyes were a mirror into his mind; his emotions were spelled out plainly as the music pulsed through his ears like a babbling stream. His entire life could be seen floating underneath those pools of hazel. You could see the love he held for his brother burning brightly. You could see the stars in his eyes, even if it was the middle of the day.

The hot sun cast rays of bright light across Sam’s tan, wind-whipped face, defining the sharp angles of his jaw and cheekbones.The cheap lense on his phone camera couldn’t capture the way that the sun dappled across Sam’s face, how the rays touched the adorable mole nestled next to his nose and the slight cleft in his chin, and illuminated the dust that his dark eyelashes batted away. Dean couldn’t help but notice that the light encircling his brother’s head looked like a shining halo.

Like hands in his hair, the wind wrapped around the long brown strands and threaded through them in the breeze. You could almost see the weights being lifted off his shoulders, the pressure of the job, the responsibilities, the worries, the pain, all swept away by the rushing wind twisting its fingers in his hair, pulling out all of his sorrow knot by knot.

It was unlike Sam, Dean thought, but he loved it all the same. Right now, Sam was letting himself live in the present, not caring if they found another shabby motel room to collapse in or dozing off on the side of the road in the Impala overnight. Forgetting that in the morning, there would be another monster and another hunt and another impending scrape with death. More injuries, more scars, more pain, but it didn’t matter. Right now, everything was just as it should be. Just him and the man that he loved driving down a road to nowhere, basking in the addictive happiness surrounding them.

After a few seconds of scrolling through the pictures, Dean selected the best one and set it as his wallpaper, even though he knew that Sam would tease him about it later. Surprisingly, he couldn’t bring himself to care.


End file.
